born and raised twice in the bay, I preach Jesus and him crucified
Everyone believes. The question is what your belief can bear. Most of us don’t meet bad theology first in a classroom. We meet it on our phones. You’re scrolling between emails and grocery lists and there it is: a polished graphic announcing that Christianity is just re-branded paganism, or a reel claiming some ancient myth... Continue Reading →
Off and on I post pictures from my youth. Throwback Thursday is a gift. What surprises me is how many people want to hide the “uncool” stuff. I was not cool then. I am not cool now. I have made peace with this. I am not ashamed of the dorky, geeky parts of my past,... Continue Reading →
I think most of us come to the Beatitudes with a pen in our hand. We read the list and start checking. Poor in spirit, working on it. Meek, trying. Pure in heart, not quite but I am getting better. We turn the Sermon on the Mount into a performance review, and we walk away... Continue Reading →
Lange, Dorothea, photographer. Eighteen year-old mother from Oklahoma, now a California migrant. United States California, 1937. Mar. Photograph. https://www.loc.gov/item/2017769788/. My own family history follows that same migration route. The old man watched the boy from across the parking lot and he knew what the boy was before he knew his name. He knew it the way... Continue Reading →
There is a nameless weight most of us carry. It is not the weight of effort, though the effort is real. It is the weight of outcomes. You said the right thing to the right person at the right time. You taught the class for the third year in a row. You sent the text... Continue Reading →
Phillip W. Martin 